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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079711">Grease and Pearls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann'>Anika_Ann</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>80s if you squint, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bad Spelling in direct speech, Carter!Reader, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Othrewise is like... teen, Pepper Potts Needs a Hug, Rating because of the second chapter, Reader Needs a Hug, Reader-Insert, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:07:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All you know is uptown; fancy clothes, expensive cars, jewellery outshining one’s personality and exhausting dinners with family acquaintances and business partners. Your life is all planned out; one day, you’ll marry Howard Stark’s son and you’ll be the golden couple adored by press.</p><p>You desperately seek to see life outside this suffocating glitz.  </p><p>That’s how you meet Steve Rogers.</p><p>  <i>For cxptain's Tumblr challenge (lovemeter), Prompt: Uptown Girl by Billy Joel </i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader, Tony Stark &amp; Reader, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Tony Stark/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Uptown Meets Downtown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’m almost embarrassed to say it turned out, once again, much much longer than I intended. It was supposed to be a oneshot. Ha! ...yay?</p><p>Credit for the fic title and chapter title to kassandra_divina_trevelyan.</p><p>For those who enjoy visuals, I added links to dresses. Happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your sigh was drowned in the sea of voices as you slipped under the surface, the water closing above your head. The moment you opened your mouth to gasp for air, it filled with water instead, and you reached out to the sun glimmering above, trying to save yourself--</p><p>To be entirely honest, now you were being dramatic; however, shall anyone exchange places with you, you were sure they would feel the same about the company of artificial people in their best Sunday suits and fancy dress, sitting around the table pretending to be engaged in the small talk.</p><p>As your eyes fell on man seated opposite to you, a bowtie around his neck, one corner of his lips raised in a blend of a smile and a smirk, your mind drifted to your wonderful friend. KR BAR</p><p>Virginia Potts, or Pepper for short, a nickname saved for her friends only, would be much better of a match for Anthony than you. She was nothing short of a proper lady and her parents, while not as wealthy as yours, were much more liberal and supportive of her following her dreams. Pepper Potts was about to turn tables and start her own company from a scratch, business<em>men</em> be damned. Her mind was brilliant, her persona enchanting, her appearance turning heads wherever she went and her heart was overflowing with kindness and determination. She was about to make people question the very definition of doing business once she set her foot in the field.</p><p>Your parents’ thinking, on the other hand, froze in the sixties, maybe forties. You were meant to become a glorified housewife, albeit educated enough to teach her own kids. You never really minded that; it wasn’t what laid heavy in your mind. Anthony did.</p><p>Anthony’s parents were as strict as yours, never quite giving him a choice but to take over the family company <em>and</em> wickedly join it with your father’s by tying your families together one day.</p><p>Your future family and your love life were to be based on a business deal. The <em>romance</em> of it.</p><p>Tony wasn’t an unlikable person by any means; a genius, somewhat charming in his own slightly arrogant way, he even made for an entertaining company at times. Nevertheless, your affections for him couldn’t begin to even hope to grow beyond friendship. On top of that, it just happened to come that while he was meant to be in the charge of to-be-his company, his interest laid further in the progress of technology itself, in <em>designing things,</em> rather than in attending board meetings.</p><p>In other words; Pepper would have been a better match for Tony, much better equipped to lead an enterprise than you and Tony together and oh, <em>let’s not forget,</em> her feelings for Tony went beyond friendly, unlike yours. And they were mutual.</p><p>But here you were, sitting through another forcefully polite dinner with the Starks and you wanted to be anywhere but here-- you wanted to be somewhere where you could actually <em>breathe.</em></p><p>As you inhaled shakily and possibly too loud for a lady, your sister Sharon shot you a scolding look. You wanted to <em>scream</em>. However, like the well-mannered girl you were, you fixed a smile for your guests instead and engaged in meaningless conversation until it was time to prepare for bed; you let Anthony kiss your knuckles in goodbye and ignored your father’s pleased smile that had your chest constricted, your stomach full of ice cubes instead of the butterflies you were supposed to feel when being with your future husband.</p><p>Your mother made a joke about Tony soon kissing a ring on your hand and you closed your eyes, swallowing the panic that didn’t leave you until the early hours of the morning, causing you to lose sleep.</p><p>Seeing your own exhausted expression in the mirror at the crack of dawn, you came to a decision.</p><p>You were to escape the tight bodice of your glamorous life if even for a minute.</p><p>And you were sure that your best friend, who happened to live closer to <em>normal</em> part of the city, was about to help you.</p><p>◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ </p><p>The bell jingled as you entered the diner, black and white tile floor resembling a chessboard, albeit slightly shabby against your heels clicking with each step.</p><p><em>Maximoff’s</em> the place was called and besides the funky chessboard floor, the interior was in warm colours, walls painted apricot, the counters, bar, tables, stools and chairs in caramel tones. Your lips automatically spread in a smile as you looked around, heading to the counter built right next to a bar, your eyes running over the specials of the day. As most of the names didn’t feel familiar, you took a mental note to kiss Pepper’s hands once you would reunite in the gallery where she was momentarily alone, providing you an alibi while you sneaked out.</p><p>“What’s a pretty thing like ya’ doin’ here? Ya’ lost, dollface?” a male voice startled you and your head snapped the direction it came from, finding a man dressed in a short-sleeved shirt with a strange logo of an eagle on his pocket and jeans. Chin-length brown hair framed his face, stubble rounding his smirking lips, his pale blue-grey eyes fixed on you.</p><p>He didn’t seem like he wanted to harm you, but the way he talked seemed strange and the fact you weren’t even sure if he talked to <em>you</em> made you uneasy. Dollface? Who called a woman <em>that? </em>Who called that anyone for that matter?</p><p>You smiled at him reluctantly, your heart speeding up. A sigh sounded next to him, out of your view, and another man spoke up, scolding the brunet.</p><p>“Lay off, Buck. You’re scaring the dame.”</p><p>The owner of the voice leaned away from the bar, his kind blue eyes and inviting expression causing your breath to hitch. Gosh, he was pretty with that subtle smile and ruffled blond hair. You figured they were colleagues since he was dressed in the same manner. You felt a bit inappropriate in your almost knee-length <a href="https://www.retro-stage.com/collections/1950s-dress/products/yellow-and-white-1950s-sunflowers-dress?variant=8943778431025">sunflower dress</a>; you were sticking out like a sore thumb. The women in this diner sure weren’t dressed like you.</p><p>“Do you need any help?” the blond asked, his tone gentler and less challenging than <em>Buck’s</em>, , instantly putting you at ease; well, as much at ease as you could feel visiting a downtown diner for the first time, on your own, no less.</p><p>Your smile grew firmer, more confident, as you beckoned towards the menu above.</p><p>“Uhm… perhaps with picking the meal?”</p><p>The brunet raised a curious eyebrow at your question. “You want to eat <em>here?”</em></p><p>Yes, you were <em>definitely </em>sticking out and you weren’t the only one to take notice.</p><p>“…yes.”</p><p>Nervous under his gaze, your eyes flickered to the blond, who seemed equally surprised, tilting his head aside.</p><p>“Well, what do you have in mind?” he asked simply.</p><p>You only shrugged in response and the brunet rolled his eyes and sighed, wiping his fingers to the napkin near his empty plate.</p><p>“Looks like I’m not needed here,” he grumbled and rose to his feet, patting his friend’s shoulder. “Just remember, Stevie, boss’ gonna kill ya’ if you’re more than half an hour late.”</p><p>What did <em>that</em> mean?</p><p>“Noted,” <em>Stevie</em> huffed a laugh and waved him off.</p><p>“Better get outta here sooner than later, can’t run as fast as Maximoff-“</p><p>“Yeah, yeah-“</p><p>“I better heard that name in a compliment!” a female voice from the door with ‘personnel only’ behind the counter suddenly called out, once again starling you.</p><p>“Sure thing, Mrs.M! See ya’!” Buck shouted right back at her as he jogged to the door and you noticed that the woman behind the counter and Stevie weren’t the only ones with their eyes on you, the realization making you shiver on the inside.</p><p>“You know what? Let’s sit somewhere else, everyone’s staring. You can check out the complete menu and the waitress will come to us,” the blond offered, already standing up and beckoning to one of the booths.</p><p>You felt yourself relax, the ever-present smile on his lips assuring you he had no malicious intent – or you hoped so.</p><p>“Sure. Thank you.”</p><p>You seated yourself opposite to him, hidden from the majority of the prying eyes as he pushed the menu your way.</p><p>“I honestly have no idea what most of this means,” you admitted before even opening the menu, watching the relaxed aura around Stevie instead as he all but melted into the cushions. It bugged you in a way, seeing as his friend had made a <em>certain </em>remark earlier. “…no one is going to try and kill you, right? I would hate to-”</p><p>He barked a laugh, small wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes and your heart skipped a beat, mesmerized when you simultaneously noticed that his nose was dusted with freckles. He was such a handsome man and he radiated pure amusement as he laughed, simply and carefree. Despite being ashamed at being the source of his amusement, you marvelled at the fact you were the cause of the happy sound.</p><p>“Ya’ think 'dat-- that here downtown, people get iced for being late for work? Is ‘dat the bullshit they feed ya’?” You blinked at his words, unsure you understood his strange lingo. Stevie shook his head, the corner of his lips still twitching. “I meant <em>killed. </em>And nonsense, the <em>nonsense </em>they feed you.”</p><p>“They mostly don’t feed me <em>anything</em> about downtown and what life really is here…” you confessed with a sigh, spotting the woman from behind the counter making her way to you, red apron swinging a bit with her step.</p><p>“Good morning, almost afternoon! Oh, Steve, some dame you have here! Finally! Not sure we have enough fancy for her though,” she greeted you enthusiastically, her speech ending with a slight thoughtful pout.</p><p>You swallowed the indignation at her assumption and smiled at her. “I… um, I don’t need anything fancy, madam. At all, actually.”</p><p>“You heard that? <em>Madam! </em>You keep this one close, Steve!”</p><p>“Hey! I’m polite!” the blond protested, a twinkle of humour in his eye. “Can we have the least fancy thing for the lady, then? And a strawberry milkshake? Ya’ alright with strawberries? It’s the best one…”</p><p>The woman, Mrs.M as Buck had called her, wrote down the order in her little notepad when you only nodded, dumb-struck when Stevie – Steve? – ordered for you. “Coming right up! You want anything else, Stevie?</p><p>“Just a refill, please?” he looked up pleadingly and the woman sighed, patting his head.</p><p>“You’re addicted, hon, I feel sorry for your stomach. I’ll bring the pot.”</p><p>“You’re an angel, Anna.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah…” she mumbled as she walked away.</p><p>Steve laid his very much muscular forearms on the table, leaning in, giving you his undivided attention.  “So… what’s your name, doll?”</p><p>Unlike with Bucky, Steve’s endearment somehow made your belly warm, your gaze lowering at his soft tone. You introduced yourself quietly and forced yourself to look up again – you were not raised by wolves, after all – and offered him a hand to shake, rising from your seat just a inch.</p><p>To your surprise, your companion gently took your fingers and turned your hand, kissing the back of it. As in, <em>actually </em>kissing it, his lips brushing your skin, his gaze locked with yours, stealing the breath from your lungs and making your rear fall back into your seat in surprise.</p><p>Who knew the downtown boys could be so charming?</p><p>“Pretty name for a pretty gal,” he commented. “So, what brings ya’ here?”</p><p>“…lunch? I told you?”</p><p>He clicked his tongue discontentedly at your poor excuse – it wasn’t exactly a lie, but… “Bad liar. Kinda like me.”</p><p>Was that right? Was he as innocent and honest as his eyes had been telling you ever since you noticed him behind Bucky? So far, he was nothing but nice to you. He could be your partner in crime – and you don’t lie to partners, especially when you’re a bad liar in the first place. You shifted in your seat, inhaled deeply and told him your dark secret.</p><p>“I just… I needed a change of scenery.”</p><p>His smile turned into a solid grin, mischief playing in his blue irises now, accenting the drop of green in them you hadn’t noticed before. “Well… looks like ya’ came to the right place.”</p><p> </p><p>⊱○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○⊰</p><p> </p><p>One of the things Steve really liked about Maximoff’s was the domestic atmosphere. It was a family diner, one started by immigrants and yet not missing anything from the American way anyone could big mouth about. It was familial, relaxed yet with efficient staff and people practically knew each other by name – the regulars did at least.</p><p>Which meant that the stunning girl in sunflower dress who walked in wearing elegant high heels turned heads instantly, both in a good and bad way. Steve found the absurd figure both amusing and fascinating; she appeared utterly lost in her well-mannered way, her skirt brushed the tights just above her knees, catching an eye of me than one guy- and really, Steve had trouble not staring as well, but he at least attempted to.</p><p>Bucky, not so much.</p><p>Steve had to give it to her though – she was adorably startled when Buck opened his big mouth and tried to flirt with her… if that was what it was supposed to be, but she didn’t run out of the door just yet, even trying for a polite talk.</p><p><em>Cute.</em> How could Steve go back to work knowing this remarkable creature was in his favourite diner? They would eat her alive, serve her like the next special!</p><p>Alright, that was a bit of an overstatement, but still.</p><p>And now, seeing her eyes widen as Wanda, the owner’s daughter and the twin sister to Steve’s colleague, placed a huge hamburger in front of the woman who simply <em>couldn’t </em>be from around here – uptown, if Steve guessed correctly – he knew he wouldn’t miss it for the world.</p><p>Luckily for him, not missing it still meant keeping his job, because they didn’t wait long. It was another thing Steve loved around here – they were quick, ready for the onslaught of hungry customers around noon, so ready that the pair barely exchanged few words before they were served food and the sinful strawberry milkshake—and thank fuck- <em>coffee.</em></p><p>He sipped at the hot bitter liquid, hiding his smile at the curious, desperate and utterly adorable expression on the girl’s face as she was trying to figure out how <em>the hell</em> she should eat that. But because he felt a bit sorry for her too – she never had a hamburger, had she, how was she even alive – he lowered the cup and took mercy upon her.</p><p>“Ya’ just need to take it to your hands, bite and hope for the best that your cute dress won’t get a new colour on it,” Steve remarked, not bothering to keep a straight face. “Just dig in, <em>uptown.”</em></p><p>She huffed, clearly slightly irked at his jab, but obediently placed her fingers to the sides of the burger and brought it to her red-painted lips. Steve settled comfortably to his seat, a coffee and a free comedy show with the prettiest actress he had ever laid his eyes on playing right in front of him.</p><p>“So… why did ya’ need a change?” he brought up after few moments, watching her reaction to the taste, a pleasant surprise on her face, a drop of grease in the corner of her lips. His fingers twitched on the cup with the need to wipe it away from her otherwise perfectly cleaned up face.  </p><p>He liked her face – it wasn’t hidden under tones of shiny coloured shit girl used these days.</p><p>She swallowed first, shaking her head, but never letting her food from her hands as if someone could steal it before she finished. Steve felt that on spiritual fucking level.</p><p>“It is a complicated issue,” she said, dodging the question. Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes.</p><p>“Try me.”</p><p>And with a sigh, she did, even when averting his gaze, lost in thought.</p><p>“You don’t know what’s like. All those… strained faces, smiling and nodding when asked to even if you don’t agree… not even being able to scratch your nose during dinner without people looking at you like you insulted them, their children and grandchildren that aren’t even born yet…“</p><p>Steve blinked at the waterfall of words, not expecting her to actually share that much. He only managed to stare at the embodiment of a good obedient uptown girl – minus the burger – while processing her words.</p><p>They sounded… <em>not right.</em> He never thought of it that way. His ma’ worked tooth and nail to keep them fed and he gave up going to art school for the very same reason. Hearing this girl, who was probably blessed with enough money to bath in it, complain about her life… was strange and frankly insulting, <em>but</em> when he thought of it, she did list some quite unpleasant downsides.</p><p>Gee. What people did to keep the picture perfect up. <em>Can’t scratch her nose.</em></p><p>“Oh my, you must think I am a complete brat,” she exclaimed into the silence that fell on their table and Steve winced, both startled and pleasantly surprised. The self-awareness in her. “Spoiled privileged girl who doesn’t appreciate how lucky she is not having to work sixteen hours a day to feed herself and her family. Gosh, I am a terrible person, I’m sorry for rambling.”</p><p>Seeing her so self-depreciating caused a smile to spread on Steve’s face once more. Self-awareness indeed, realization in the purest form.</p><p>Where the hell did she come from?</p><p>She was… an odd egg, that was for sure. Steve certainly liked that and he hated seeing her with her lips turned downwards; so he spoke what was on his mind, as he always did.</p><p>“No… no. I think I understand… to a point.”</p><p>“Likely story,” she uttered, taking an angry bite of the hamburger.</p><p><em>So fucking adorable</em> when angry – if that was what she called it. Steve could kiss that pouty lip of hers.</p><p>“I do!” he protested, raising his hands palms up and gesturing to her subtly to show he saw her point. “And for the record, I promise you – you can scratch your nose all you want with me.”</p><p>The smile she gave him could power a damn city, even if it wasn’t necessarily radiant – just very, very sweet and almost shy. “Thank you, Steve. I—never mind. Do you… have family?”</p><p>Steve, taken aback by her question, hesitated only for a moment. She had been honest, he should too. And to his genuine surprise, he enjoyed talking to her, so why ruin that with making shit up?</p><p>“Nope. Ma’ passed away few years ago. Dad’s been gone a while. Just Buck and guys from my shop.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. Really. I can’t imagine.”</p><p>He shrugged it off, ignoring the pang in his heart – the loss of his mother, only few years prior, still hurt. He missed her – she was an incredible woman and the kindest mother.</p><p>“That’s life. But thanks. You?”</p><p>“Both parents and—” she started off reluctantly, but then downright sighed. ”-a sister.”</p><p>“Don’t sound too excited about it,” Steve remarked sarcastically and she sighed again, putting her unfinished food away, frowning at it. “Full already?”</p><p>“It’s huge!”</p><p>“Gimme. No food comes to waste on my watch. Drink your milkshake,” he hummed, pulling the plate to his side of the table, much to her obvious astonishment – and was that a hint of amusement? – and took a bite. She shook her head, wiping her mouth with careful taps of a napkin, but was <em>totally</em> grinning at his actions, which left him unfairly giddy. “Ya’ were sayin’? About your family? More like your sister ya’ don’t exactly love?”</p><p>Steve almost choked when the smile slipped from her lips, mentally cursing himself.</p><p>“I know, I know! Once again – terrible person, I am aware. And I do like her, she’s family,” she said quickly as if to save the situation and prove she could treat her sister properly. Steve found the ‘she’s a family’ a bit of a learned phrase, utter shit, but he’d listen to more. “It’s just… Sharon… she’s the younger sister, but she is… <em>perfect. </em>Everyone thinks so. And she is! I swear I am not jealous, but… I wish I had more of a sister and less of an omnipresent perfect lady to tell me my hair doesn’t look good today at every occasion.”</p><p>Steve deliberately took a long nice look at her hairstyle. There was not <em>one</em> hair out of place on her head. She had some sort of an elaborate braid on her head Steve couldn’t hope to understand, making her look like a princess – well, kinda like a queen even, but her young face and playful and elegant dress wouldn’t make for a serious and grey sovereign. Princess it was.</p><p>“Was 'dat today?” Steve asked, wiping his fingers to a napkin as he finished her meal and took a large gulp of coffee.</p><p>“Yes… <em>again.</em>”</p><p>His eyebrow slowly rose, sceptical and pitying. And kinda mad at people who ever told her she was anything but perfect. Beautiful. Stunning. Adorable.</p><p>“Well, no offence, doll, but your sis sounds like she should ease up on the bitch juice and have her eyes checked. Your hair’s fine, this whole…” he gestured vaguely to her head, “complicated thing ya’ did with it, is pretty like the rest of ya’.”</p><p>He should probably ease up on the compliments, but he couldn’t help himself. She seemed flustered at it and he loved it. She was cute. Her only flaw was that her hair wasn’t loose – Steve would like to see what she looked like, wild hair to run fingers through--</p><p>“…thank you. What is, eh, bitch juice?”</p><p>Steve chuckled when called out on his mistake. “Nothing really, means she shouldn’t be mean to ya’. Probably shouldn’t say 'dat home, tho.”</p><p>Her smile made its return, sweet, shy and happy as she learned something new. “I will keep it in mind. Thank you for sweeping in, taking me under your wing here. You are a great company. I like you.”</p><p>Steve would deny it till the day he’d die, but that moment, his chest puffed with fucking <em>pride. </em>She <em>liked</em> him. Take that, Barnes! Take that, uptown snobs! She liked HIM.</p><p>“Well, if ya’ ever come to downtown ever again-“ he sort-of joked, the realization that this was very likely to be a one-time thing settling heavy in his stomach.</p><p>He wasn’t kidding anyone – he <em>liked</em> her too. A lot. Even when she was bitching; or maybe because of that, in addition to her 100% cutesy and pretty face… and figure.</p><p>“Would you meet me?” she asked excitedly, eyes lighting up with joy, which… Steve didn’t see coming.</p><p>“Uhm-- sure. If ya’ wanted.”</p><p>“Next Tuesday? What time?” she pried, sipping happily at the remnants of her milkshake. <em>Nope,</em> not the visual he needed—dammit.</p><p>
  <em>Wait, what did she just say?</em>
</p><p>“You’re serious?” he asked incredulously, earning a shrug and a soft smile.</p><p>“You are funny and nice… and handsome.” Well, his ego just levitated through the ceiling, he wasn’t gonna lie- “I told you I liked you. Does that… mean something different here?”</p><p>He felt his lips curl up in a gentle smile at her slight confusion. She sounded so innocent. Steve’s heart could melt – and she already had him wrapped around her finger, which he surprisingly didn’t mind.</p><p>“No, doll, means the same thing. I like you too,” he assured her. “Gotta run, tho. Ya’ get home alright?”</p><p>“Yes. I only have to walk to the gallery nearby. I should go too…. Do I pay at the counter or somewhere-?”</p><p>“Nope. I do,” Steve interrupter her inspection of the diner and she swiftly rose to her feet.</p><p>“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly-“</p><p>“Lemme treat a pretty girl, ‘k?”</p><p>The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of them – but if he had, his reaction would be exactly the same. This might have not been a proper date, <em>but</em> no matter how much more money she no doubt had, Steve’s ma’ would box his ear if he let the lady pay.</p><p>The fact she casted her gaze down, shy at his supposed chivalry, was only a pleasant bonus. He could kiss her at that moment, so friggin’ beautiful and shy, <em>and</em> possibly interested.</p><p>“You say that a lot,” she whispered, glancing up at him from under her long eyelashes, tiny smile playing on her lips.</p><p>Steve shrugged it off and headed for the counter before he could act on impulse and actually pull her in to smack his mouth to hers.</p><p>“Just sayin’ the truth. Six p.m. works for ya’?”</p><p>She hummed as he paid for her and his coffee. “I will <em>make</em> it work.”</p><p>That was good enough for him as he offered this very place to meet.</p><p>Once they left the diner, she managed to take him aback once more when she rose to her tiptoes – a heroic act in her pumps – and pressed a soft chaste kiss on his cheek before saying a simple goodbye and began to walk the opposite direction than him.</p><p>Steve was grinning like a fool for the rest of the day and not even Bucky’s wiggling eyebrows could ruin his mood.</p><p> </p><p>⊱○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○⊰</p><p> </p><p>Sleepovers were for children, you had been told by your mother more than once; so you claimed that what you were going to do with Pepper would be a girls’ night (women’ night?) and she suddenly seemed ecstatic, because Pepper was a fashion goddess and you still had a lot to learn about being chic.</p><p>You didn’t even care for the insult, as you were <em>not </em>about to spend time with your friend. No, Pepper was only kind enough to help you out and plot against the evil forces of uptown, covering for you while you’d be having a—a <em>date</em> with Steve. The week couldn’t past fast enough.</p><p>But finally you were here, wearing a <a href="https://www.retro-stage.com/collections/1950s-dress/products/pink-1950s-button-bow-swing-dress?variant=31821349322801">pink dress</a> – if a bit too chaste, but practical for a summer evening – with decorative black buttons, short sleeves and a bow around your waist, hair styled by the ‘fashion goddess’ who lived up to her title and charmed two French braids on your head. You were nearly jumping on spot, looking around subtly from time to time – you still had two minutes to spare.</p><p>So you stood there, trying not to tap your foot – which was really tempting, the elegant flats with an inch-tall heel making tapping much more easier than your usual pumps – and politely smiled at each person passing you.</p><p>When you caught a glimpse of a tall blonde figure, your smile widened into an honest one. He was even more handsome than you remembered – and he reciprocated the smile upon seeing you, his eyes not-so-subtly travelling up and down your figure. He was wearing simple blue t-shirt, one that hugged his muscular figure tightly, causing your mind to wander into strange places, and a pair of jeans – a simple outfit that he clearly felt comfortable in, a backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders.</p><p>“Wow. I feel underdressed now. And we might have to change plans,” he said upon greeting you, deep timber that haunted you in your sweetest dreams.</p><p>You subconsciously crumbled your skirt between your fingers, your smile faltering as you suddenly felt self-conscious and disappointed that you didn’t dress to his liking – or to fittingly to his plans.</p><p>“Oh, no! Should I run and change?”</p><p>Steve instantly shook his head, taking a hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. Your cheeks heated up, your heart speeding up at his affection.</p><p>“Absolutely not. You look beautiful,” he opposed, giving you a once-over again, his blue eyes twinkling.</p><p>“Thank you. You too--<em>handsome, </em>I mean.”</p><p>And he was. Gosh. And that ruffled hair of his-! How did you want to run your fingers through it—and not to give a <em>damn</em> about such action being inappropriate.</p><p>“Thanks. I—uh, I was plannin’ for a small trip with… a bit of climbin’, which was stupid, I know-“ he stumbled over his words, scratching the back of neck sheepishly, clearly having absolutely no clue how giddy you had been – and still were – for spending the time with him in any form.</p><p>You cleared your throat. “How much climbing?”</p><p>“Not too much…? It would be safe, I promise. But I’m worried about your dress-“</p><p>“I’m not!” you blurted out, covering your mouth in embarrassment at your hastiness.</p><p>Steve didn’t seem to mind; in fact, a slow mischievous grin spread on his lips, beckoning you to follow him.</p><p>“Then come with me if ya’ wanna know what it’s like to live.”</p><p>The sentence was rather ironic; before you knew it, you were sitting nearly on the edge of a damn <em>roof, </em>precisely 37 storeys above the ground, on a building that wasn’t even <em>finished </em>yet.</p><p>Apparently, Buck’s – <em>Bucky’s –</em> uncle worked as construction manager, which opened you the doors to one of the unfinished additions to New York’s skyline. Some storeys you had to indeed climb, but with Steve’s support, you had felt ridiculously safe, grateful for thinking to bring flats instead of usual attire – and the reward was absolutely worth it.</p><p>Seeing the sunset, sitting on a picnic blanket after finishing simple sandwiches and a lemonade, you felt like you had the world at your feet.</p><p>It was breath-taking, for the lack of better term, enough to bring tears to your eyes.</p><p>Never in your life you had felt so… light. So free. Despite the heights you found yourself in, you had never breathed more easily. And as sentimental it might sound… you were sure it didn’t only went down to not being under scrutiny from your family and those <em>bigheads </em>who thought that they had a claim on the world, hence claim on you too-- no, you could tell with absolute certainty that at least part of this liberating feeling went down to the person sitting next to you, staring with you at the sunset and the lights of the city coming to life, flashing neons shining in the streets.</p><p>Your hand blindly reached for his, covering the back of it, feeling the slight roughness of his knuckles and skin – a hand of a workman. He didn’t retreat, but you could feel his gaze shifting to you.</p><p>“Thank you for taking me here, Steve,” you whispered, a tender breath of wind carrying your voice to a faraway place, to a dreamland. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the marvellous scenery. “It’s… it’s so beautiful.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he murmured, his hand shifting under yours, escaping your hold, fingers running up your arms to nestle on your jaw, gently cradling, causing your breathing to hitch, your heart speeding up to a at least a hundred per minute. “You are, doll.”</p><p>You turned to him, melting in his touch, and while you saw his face inching closer to yours, nerves working, regretting your inexperience, not for a split second you thought of retreating.</p><p>When Steve’s lips met yours, all rational thought left your mind, carried away by the sweet breeze of summer.</p><p>Girls’ night never felt so magical.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Boy Meets Girl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: little blood, NSFW, 18+, first times</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The July blended into August and love was in the air. There was no exaggeration here – that was exactly how Steve felt.</p><p>Call him a dork.</p><p>Call him a sap.</p><p>Call him an idiot.</p><p>He wouldn’t care.</p><p>Two more dates had been arranged and Steve knew that he was getting way too deep, considering all the risks, considering that the relationship he had fallen into head first was doomed before it even started-- but he didn’t want to think about that.</p><p>A love-struck smile was tugging on his lips as he worked on a Lincoln Mark VI Continental, a highbrow kind of car for sure, and his mind simply couldn’t but wander to her.</p><p>To her exited grin as they strolled through the very gallery she had supposedly escaped to see downtown for the first time, to her teary gaze when he told her he had never got to attend an art school no matter how much he wanted to. To her dreamy expression when he drove her outside the city on what they had called ‘the SHIELD bike’, a Kawasaki Vulcan 750 the owner never came back for, and they spent half the night stargazing, her knowing more of stars that he had, but actually seeing them so clearly for the first time. She had been lying by his side, head resting on his arm, hand shyly caressing his other shoulder, her lips finding his cheek, his jaw, his lips every so often.</p><p>She was absolutely loveable, pure, sweet and unfairly <em>sexy. </em>There was no other word for it – he wouldn’t call her <em>that </em>to her face<em>, </em>but with each meeting, Steve couldn’t deny his very nature. He was just a guy, he was only human. And his uptown girl… well. She was a damn femme fatale or whatever people called it. The things she did to him – possibly not consciously – were fucking <em>fatal </em>for sure, lethal to his sanity. To put it simply, he was glad that he had sat on the bike at the <em>front</em>.</p><p>And as if he was projecting his dirty thoughts on the garage ceiling, Thor – one of the guys who actually gossiped like a damn old lady – opened his big fat mouth.</p><p>“So, ya’ gath your dick wet yet?”</p><p>Steve’s smile slipped from his face at instant as he almost choked on his fucking spit, irritation spiking at instant at such—filthy question about <em>her.</em> He shot up straight and whipped his head around to the other man so swiftly he nearly hit his head on the hood.</p><p>“What? No!” Steve protested loudly, way too quickly perhaps as he was caught daydreaming. “Shit, Odinson, she ain’t like ‘dat! She… she deserves some-“</p><p>“We all deserve <em>some</em>, dat’s what I’m sayin’… ”</p><p>Steve grabbed the nearest wrench, ready to throw it as his blood boiled—but he resisted the urge in the last second.</p><p>He knew exactly why the question bothered him. One, it was disgusting and crude to talk about his girl like that. Two: he was sporting a serious case of blue balls and jerking off was simply not doing it for him anymore.</p><p>“Shut the <em>fuck</em> up,” he hissed, turning back to the engine.</p><p>To his surprise, the blond piece of a jerk did as Steve asked. Sadly, Pietro, Maximoff’s boy, spoke up, his curiosity plucked up too.</p><p>“Wait, ya’ wanna tell me ya’ got her pretty and all for yourself and ya’ didn’t jump in sac?”</p><p>“…No, we didn’t,” Steve snapped back, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath.</p><p>Did he want to do exactly what the guys were talking about? Jesus <em>fucking</em> Christ<em>,</em> yes he did.</p><p>“That’s just <em>wrong,</em> man. I betcha have trouble walkin’ with her wearin’ those skirts and shit,” Thor stepped in again and despite himself, Steve chuckled, shaking his head.</p><p>His friend were idiots.</p><p>“Well, it ain’t easy, not gonna lie. But she’s… different.”</p><p>“’Dat true or not, you better go get some, ya’ idjt,” Thor snorted, instantly making Steve tense up again. “Where da’ fuck do ya’ think your little lovestory is goin’ anyway?”</p><p><em>What the fuck was </em>that<em> supposed to mean?</em> (Steve knew. He fucking <em>knew,</em> but he was not gonna think about that. Just… no.)</p><p>He slowly spun on his heels, crossing his arms on his chest to glare at his tall dumbass friend.</p><p>“What the hell are ya’ talkin’ ‘bout?”</p><p>“Come on, Rogers, you ain’t <em>‘dat</em> dumb. It’s just a matter of time before your pretty princess gets bored-“</p><p>“Hey, she ain’t like ‘dat!“ Steve interrupted him, annoyed at his narrow thinking. She <em>wasn’t. </em>Maybe at first, she had only been looking for some distraction from her golden cage, but-</p><p> “-or before her daddy locks her up in her castle ‘gain. She ain’t made for dirtbags like us.”</p><p>Steve gulped and nearly flinched at the blow. Odinson was talking no shit – Steve was aware of that and that was why it was pissing him off so much. He hit the fucking nail of Steve’s head with deadly precision.</p><p>“Leave him alone…” Bucky murmured from his station, clearly irritated on his friend’s behalf. “And fuck you, Odinson, mind your own damn business.”</p><p>“Fuck <em>me?!</em> No! <em>Her!”</em></p><p>The only answer the Thor got was a grease-soaked rag to his face.</p><p>◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦</p><p>The very next day, he was just minding his damn business – as they all should – when the comfortable silence of the garage, only interrupted by the occasional huff and clink of tool, was broken by Bucky’s incredulous hum.</p><p>“Fuck me sideways…”</p><p>“Huh?” Steve raised his head, just like the rest of the crew, and the brunet beckoned to the garage entrance, a familiar elegant figure walking down the driveway.</p><p>Steve gulped against the lump in his throat, mouth dry – the heat was unbearable that day, she might as well be a hallucinating of his, but given by the reaction of the others…</p><p>“Shit, ‘dat her?” Thor whistled, earning a sharp glare from Steve instantly.</p><p>“You fuckin’ behave! All of ya’! Not a fucking wo-“</p><p>“Gee, Steven, cool it. We get it. We’ll be all charmin’ and polite to your gal,” Bucky assured him, but glared <em>murder</em> at Odinson and Maximoff in warning. Bucky could be scary when he wanted – the bullies of Steve’s past would know.</p><p>Steve eyed his work outfit with a frown, a smudge of oil on his company shirt over his chest as he had been stupid enough to not only lean over, but actually <em>lie</em> over the very insides of the car he had been working on. Well. She did date a downtown guy… guess this will have to do. He sure as hell wasn’t about to lose the shirt altogether.</p><p>He went to greet her, the swing in her step enough to have his mind wandering – and then she actually stepped away from the sunlight and he thought he was losing his mind.</p><p>The <a href="https://www.retro-stage.com/products/1950s-polka-dot-halter-swing-dress?variant=31778012364849&amp;utm_source=fb&amp;utm_medium=ad&amp;utm_campaign=YvetteDL7-retro&amp;utm_content=retro&amp;utm_term=retro&amp;fbclid=IwAR26oo1qjPVwtrUa47x64Ofd1DkXTPdu4ipgUTPS_MGM-mSYwNliwYs_cwQ">dress</a> she was wearing was… different. Dark blue polka-dot appeared both elegant and playful on her, had no sleeves whatsoever; he would handle <em>that, </em>maybe. But <em>shit</em>, barely any neckline; no, the straps of her dress were only two pieces of fabric tied behind her neck. Shoulders completely bare, neckline hazardously low – definitely unusual on <em>her,</em> offering a peek of her cleavage, not slutty by any means but definitely <em>tempting.</em></p><p>He was so <em>fucked.</em></p><p>“Heya doll,” he said, desperately trying to keep his cool and think about literally <em>anything</em> that her breasts. She smiled at him, radiant. “Whatcha doin’ here?”</p><p>“Hi Steve! I only came to see you,” she shrugged, looking around the garage with curious eyes, giving each of his colleagues a brief polite smile, lingering on Bucky for a bit as she had met him before. “Is it a big inconvenience?”</p><p>“No, of course not!”</p><p>Bucky coughed, sputtering <em>“whipped” </em>in between, that jerk, causing her to shoot him a confused glance before turning back to Steve.</p><p>“Uhm… are you leaving any time soon? How far are you with repairs for the day?”</p><p>Honestly? He had stuff to do, but fuck it, he could work only on the absolutely necessary shit only and finish tomorrow – he was not gonna pass on <em>that</em> opportunity.</p><p>…Yeah, he was probably whipped, okay. So <em>what.</em></p><p>“Almost done, doll,” he announced. “I’ll make time for ya’, ya’ better believe ‘dat. Come ‘ere, I’ll show ya’ somethin’.”</p><p>He nodded in the direction of the Subaru he was working on momentarily, gesturing for her to take a seat if she wanted, hastily wiping it. She smiled at him shyly as he started talking, explaining what he was doing and once again, he found her utterly adorable. She clearly saw all of those things for the first time, barely understanding a word or two of what he was saying, but she listened to him intently, asking a question every now and then, making sure she got it right.</p><p>Steve was even confident she could name some of the parts by the time he was finished. He took a quick shower in the stall in the backroom he had only learned to use recently, avoiding it before for a good reason – it was slightly rusty and only had cold water. Luckily, today he could use a cold shower for more than one reason.</p><p>Needless to say, he was extremely fast in his clean-up, genuinely worried what the guys were doing to her in his absence.</p><p>To his own shock, he found her smiling widely, her irises crinkling with amusement, a satisfied grin on Thor’s face. Steve took a calming breath, fixing a smile for <em>his</em> girl, gently taking her elbow. <em>Fuck off, Odinson.</em></p><p>“Shall we?” Steve asked impatiently, desperate to get her out of the claws of his dirty – in both figurative and literal sense of the word – friends.</p><p>“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Thor, Pietro, Bucky.” She even gave them a sweet wave as Steve lead her away.</p><p>“See ya’, guys!” Steve threw over his shoulder, shooting them a glare as he caught them with their head tilted, inspecting her legs and ass. They swiftly returned to their stations.</p><p>“So… whadaya’ wanna do?” he asked once they were out of earshot, the warm breeze carrying the loud burst of laugh of Steve’s colleagues to them, causing him to roll his eyes.</p><p>“Would you show me where you live?”</p><p>To say that Steve was taken aback was a damn understatement. But once again, her eyes were so full of hope and excitement that he couldn’t but comply. The very moment they entered, he went to hastily pick up abandoned socks, making the bed a bit more presentable, throwing away the beer can he had left on his counter, mentally cursing himself.</p><p>“Eh, I’m sorry for the mess. I—eh, wasn’t expecting any guests,” Steve explained unnecessarily as he scanned the shoe box of his apartment sceptically, searching to get rid of the worst mess before going back to the door, fully planning on locking it – it was as shitty, basically allowing anyone who wanted to enter unless Steve did so.</p><p>Not that there was much to steal, the apartment had the very basic equipment, the size allowed Steve to cross the one room with both the bed and the kitchenette in five long strides, the tiny bathroom not exactly an image from a magazine – but there were still things Steve valued, and his privacy counted among them too.</p><p>“I like it here, it has an air of home. Your own space” she commented, more forgiving than she probably should.</p><p>As he locked the door, apologizing for the mess once more, he made the mistake of turning his back to her; and when he faced her again, he was met with a sight that had him frozen on spot.</p><p>His stunning uptown girl had taken the liberty to sit on his bed.</p><p>His pants grew considerably tighter at the pretty picture alone, the effects of his cold shower long gone. She was a vision; her long ponytail cascaded down over her collarbone and chest, soft hair teasing him to touch; her eyes, innocent and doe-like, were looking around with genuine interest before locking her gaze with his, stopping his heart altogether. One of her hands laid on the crumpled comforters, the other in her lap as she crossed her legs, the skirt of her dress riding up her thigh as if to call to him in the contrast of innocence and temptation.</p><p>She looked so <em>right</em> here and yet so out of place. She was a goddess in a dirtbag’s lair and Steve couldn’t but recall Thor’s words; as annoying as had they been, they rang in Steve’s ears and they spoke the truth.</p><p>But--<em>fuck.</em> His ma’ always wanted him to believe in God. Steve hadn’t always lived like he did, he wasn’t convinced that God existed. And while he had had other women here in his loft, if for a fling, this very moment, his gaze was locked on the beautiful creature in his bed now and he had a revelation, finally <em>believing</em>. Suddenly he knew it was all true-- and that God was a woman.</p><p>He was almost scared to breathe, to move, so the picture in front of him wouldn’t disappear into thin air.</p><p>“Steve? Are you alright?”</p><p><em>‘…Betcha</em> <em>have trouble walkin’ with her wearing those skirts and shit…’</em></p><p>Yes, the growing hardness between his legs did make it more difficult than ever. Still, he took a reverent step towards her, mesmerized. He’d have to draw her like that someday-</p><p>Oh.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I just—I remembered, ugh, I have a little somethin’ for ya’… if you want,” he said to play off his inner turmoil, regretting his words the very next moment. Now if he gave it to her, he wouldn’t have it for himself, would he?</p><p>But the way her eyes lit up with curiosity and excitement convinced him it was worth it. He could give it another try, and that one her would keep it for himself. He gave her a quick smile and crouched by her feet, opening the drawer by his bed and pulling out his well-worn sketchbook. He didn’t have much time for drawing since he started working in the shop, but lately, his muse incarnated in the form of <em>her</em> and he <em>had</em> <em>to</em> find the time to try to capture her beauty on paper.</p><p>He opened the book so she couldn’t see first, flipping through the pages until he found what he was looking for.</p><p>Not tearing it out just yet, he suddenly felt shy about his imperfect art— drawing was something he always enjoyed, that made him happy, and his ma’ had supported him-- but what if that had been because she hadn’t had the heart to tell him otherwise? She had always been gushing, talking about how talented he had been and on a good day, Steve would agree, but today…</p><p>Now, he reluctantly handed the potential gift, unsure- what had he been thinking, she was used to a whole different kind of gifts, expensive ones, pearls, dresses, hats-</p><p>Her breath hitched, her lips parting in what he could only hope was awe.</p><p>Her gaze trailed over the drawing, paying attention to every detail, tender fingers hovering above it, afraid to touch and smear. Her intense inspection made Steve shift uncomfortably.</p><p>Or maybe she thought it was too much? Did she find it creepy? They had never talked about him drawing <em>her</em> and he put all the care he was capable of into capturing her face, the top of her sunflower dress-</p><p>“Oh my God, Steve,” she whispered, barely audible, never tearing her gaze away from the paper. “This is… this is beautiful. Absolutely stunning. When you said you wanted to go to art school at some point-“</p><p>He felt a rush of pride, dimmed by the sudden embarrassment at her praise. “I mean, it’s not perfect-“</p><p>“Do <em>not</em> dare to criticize this piece of art!”</p><p>“Uhm-“</p><p>Her head finally turned back to him, an amazed smile on her face. “You would really give this to me?”</p><p>Screw it, he could do thousands of more and he wouldn’t keep a single one of them if it meant she would look at him like this again.</p><p>“It’s all yours if ya’ want,” he assured her, causing her smile to literally glow.</p><p>Shit, didn’t she light up the whole room, the whole apartment. He would keep her there for fucking <em>forever</em> if he could, making her smile, giggle, moan and kept her coming apart all day.</p><p>Clearing his throat, cursing himself for the stray thought that set his whole body on fire, he rose to his full height, desperately trying to distract himself with literally anything that wasn’t her mouth, the bare skin of her shoulders, the swell of her breasts, or her legs in those stupid delicious stockings.</p><p>He needed to cool the fuck off – and he could sing when he realized how dry his mouth became, giving him a great excuse to think about something different than the woman he wanted to pin to the mattress of his bed and fuck like there was no tomorrow.</p><p>“Uh, sorry, I didn’t even offer you anything,” he blurted out, making his way to the kitchenette, pouring himself a glass of water, taking one for her too.</p><p>She watched him intently as she set the sketch carefully on the top of the book in the open drawer, teeth sunk in her lower lip.</p><p>And Lord have mercy, did Steve want to liberate that lip with his own teeth. And maybe he <em>could – </em>the problem was that once he’d touch her, he might not be able to stop.</p><p>Her eyes were still following him as he placed the glass on the nightstand. “Can I get you anyth-“</p><p>“Steve, I want to make love with you.”</p><p>Steve nearly dropped the glass in his hand, breath knocked out of him with one simple sentence.</p><p>“What?!” he choked out, his voice coming out strangled and fuck, sue him, his dick felt about the same, because hearing her say the words—the images that flooded his mind were—<em>a lot.</em> Too much.</p><p>He looked at her with wide eyes, his mouth once again dry as Sahara desert, and she was still chewing on her red lip and- she breathed in shakily, breasts rising with the inhale, her cheeks burning, eyes casted downwards.</p><p>“I want you to make love to me.”</p><p>Steve gulped, honestly wanting nothing but to do exactly that. Maybe even less lovin’ and more fu—<em>later.</em></p><p>Where the hell did that come from? Since when was she—she had all her life ruled, and for all he knew she had her husband chosen for her, one that was probably supposed to be her fir--<em>oh, oh shit she was a virgin</em> and Steve had to ball his hands into fists, because <em>fuck,</em> now he imagined <em>him</em> being the first to take her and---and all blood left his brain, everything below his belt screaming for attention.</p><p>He parked his ass on the bed next to her, leaving several good inches between them so he could maintain <em>some</em> sanity.</p><p>“Doll, that’s-“ he rasped, only to be interrupted, her smaller hand covering his, her lip slightly pouting now, <em>torturing him, </em>along with her hopeful gaze. Those fingers with perfectly manicured nails, oh how they would look wrapped around something else, those lips of hers-</p><p>“Please?”</p><p>“I-- have you even ever…“ his voice trailed off, already knowing the answer.</p><p>“No, but I’d like it to be you, if that’s not a problem for you,” she offered, shifting nervously and Steve almost choked on his own rapid breath, because no, <em>nope,</em> that really wasn’t an issue. He shook his head and she charmed a small smile, little broken on its edges. “Where is this going, Steve? Where are we heading? We… we both know that my father—my <em>mother</em>, <em>anyone, </em>if I told them, they would never let me-- I'm afraid there isn’t much chance--- and your friends realize it too.”</p><p>Her last words were like a bucket of ice-cold water, the startling realization hitting him like a truck.</p><p>“Wait, wait, did ya’—ya’ were in the shop yesterday? Ya’ heard us?”</p><p>To say he was horrified, now that wouldn’t just cut it. He wasn’t necessarily trying to be a different person with her, to hide anything, but the way the guys had talked-</p><p>And she just nodded. Great.</p><p>“Your friend was right. And... you have been so kind to me, I miss you whenever I have to go… Let me give you this while we still have time,” she continued, apparently unbothered by the crude way she had been talked about, her fingers even caressing the back of his hand fisting the sheets. “I am here, Steve, in your bed, waiting for you, ready to give you whatever you desire. And I desire you too, all of you.”</p><p>Steve closed his eyes, convinced to his very core she had no friggin’ idea what she was doing to him-- how <em>hard</em> she affected him, what an impossible task had it been to keep his hands at least remotely off of her so far – let alone <em>now </em>when she was-- <em>offering herself</em>, admitting she wanted him too. Did she even know what she was talking about?</p><p>“Doll,” he rasped, clearing his throat and taking care to whisper her name softer then. “Are you sure?”</p><p>“I am. So, I’m only asking… do you want that? Will you make love to me?”</p><p>And really. Was there any chance of him saying no to that?</p><p> </p><p>⊱○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○⊰</p><p>When you came to surprise Steve in the shop and was confronted with the way his co-workers talked about you – with him, no less –, you had a brief moment of panic and disgust twisting your gut. But somehow, you decided to linger and listen in for more.</p><p>None of the guys noticed you standing by the garage entrance, listening in. Then, none of them could notice the tears that gathered in your eyes either, as the words found their way to stung, making you question whether Steve even cared about anything but sex and at the thought, you felt a pang where the heart was supposed to be fluttering happily upon hearing Steve’s voice. It did when he defended you, but the relief was short-lived. None of the men saw when you took your abrupt leave either, your head buzzing with million thoughts.</p><p>It took you few hours to organize them; however, your heart helped the most. You couldn’t see Steve only chasing you to have sex, no-- it wasn’t that simple. And you made your decision.</p><p>Now, you were certain that it was the right one.</p><p>You were in Steve’s apartment, on his <em>bed, </em>seeing his hesitation, your nerves causing you to sound shaky, doubts scratching the door of insecurity locked away in your mind.</p><p>Perhaps you had misinterpreted it? Perhaps you weren’t appealing to him enough? But you would have thought—he had said- and the dress-</p><p>The hand you had covered turned over out of blue, his fingertips running up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You glanced at Steve’s face, but you couldn’t meet his gaze; his was fixed on your lips and you realized you were biting on them again, a nervous habit you were often scolded for.</p><p>Your gaze instinctively fell on his mouth too as it slowly neared, his whole hand finding the side of your neck.</p><p>Was this a yes?</p><p>His thumb caressed your jaw and you didn’t dare to even breathe, waiting for his lips to steal the last of air from your lungs. Your eyes fluttered shut and then his mouth was on yours, soft and sweet, careful even and your heart felt like beating its way out of your chest in anticipation.</p><p>You weren’t kidding anyone – you were terrified. But also excited, your body tingling all over at the idea of <em>Steve </em>knowing you in the most intimate way and you him, your stomach flipping when the palm on your neck grew firmer.</p><p>His lips withdrew, a pathetic mewl leaving your throat at the loss. The hand on you twitched, moving to the back of your head and the next thing you knew, his mouth was back, bolder than before, his lips parting yours, exploring, and the unexpected somersault in your abdomen, not entirely unpleasant, caused your thighs to squeeze together.</p><p>Steve’s free hand fell on the upper one, just above your knee, only the thigh-highs shielding you from his warm touch. The flutter in your stomach was stronger this time, a gasp escaping you, muffled by Steve’s mouth, earning a hum you hoped to be content in return. His fingers slipped under the hem of your dress, raking it up a bit, his palm sprawling over your thigh, fingertips reaching the first patch of bare skin. You whole body felt like catching fire, your breathing picking up severely.</p><p>Steve’s lips left yours, trailing lower, his hand still cradling your head, and you let him guide you as his fingers slipped into your hair, pulling just lightly to expose your throat, his kisses travelling down to your collarbone, hot breath tickling sweetly as he muttered praise into your skin.</p><p>“Christ, you’re so pretty. Do ya’ really-?”</p><p>“Yes,” fell from your lips breathily, eyes closed at the touch that drove you crazy with both anticipation and pleasure.</p><p>His skilful fingers moved to the knot made of your straps behind your neck, causing you to flush when his lips slid to your shoulder, the straps peeled off of your skin, causing the top part of the dress drop to your waist, revealing your bra.</p><p>No man had ever saw you only in your bra and when Steve paused in his ministrations, you experienced a brief moment of panic at what he could be thinking.</p><p>His fingers on you flexed, digging into the flesh of your thigh, his other hand instantly falling to fondle your breast over the fabric, an undefinable noise escaping his chest.</p><p>“I’m gonna take ‘dat off, a’right?”</p><p>You nodded even if he in fact wasn’t paying attention, his fingers eagerly moving to the opening and quickly undoing it, his lips closing around your nipple the moment it was free.</p><p>The sensation flooded through you like warmth of sunshine, except ten times that intensity. You had tried out what you liked before, briefly, secretly, but good <em>Lord</em>, it had never—that feeling couldn’t compare to what Steve’s mouth, his tongue flipping over your nipple, did to you. The pool of wetness in your panties was growing almost embarrassing amount.</p><p>When his hand moved to your other breast, you definitely were ashamed of the sound that erupted in your chest and you pressed your lips together, willing to keep sounds alike at bay before they could repulse Steve. Because <em>God,</em> did you want him to keep doing whatever he was doing to you.</p><p>His hand on your leg drifted higher, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, causing you to jump – you would swear he smiled against your chest and you couldn’t resist and checked. He looked up, a sudden frown creasing his brows when he spotted something he didn’t like.</p><p>“Are ya’ tryin’ to be quiet, pretty doll?” he drawled, rising from his position and recapturing your lips with his, unyieldingly pushing them open, his hands still on your nipple and slipping further between your thighs to stroke the sensitive skin. The moan of pure pleasure had no chance to be held back, leaving your mouth, swallowed by Steve’s.</p><p>“Now ‘dat’s it…” he mumbled, one open-mouthed kiss following another, his tongue toying with yours, all of his actions only adding to the wetness at your core.</p><p>His hand coaxed your thighs apart, the true nerves settling in. This was all nice, <em>very nice, </em>but you knew that at some point pain would come too, inevitably-</p><p>Steve’s mouth travelled down your body, your skirt rolled up at your waist and he yanked at it unsubtly so you would help him pull it over your head and rid of it completely. You obeyed, rewarded by his hands pushing you lying on your back, his lips continuing their path, to your navel, to the hem of your panties which they skipped and moved to your thigh as he kept talking softly.</p><p>“Don’t hold anythin’ back, doll. Wanna hear if ya’ like it. Gonna make ya’ feel so good, promise… ”</p><p>And you believed him. He sucked on the skin of your inner thing, a moan, a blend of pleasure and unexpected pain erupting from you, once more making Steve smile as his hand slid under your bottom, hooking in the hem of your underwear, pulling it off your legs while barely parting his lips from your skin.</p><p>You gulped at the sight of a fully clothed Steve between your thighs, his mouth near your core and not in the millions of years you had thought of his lips moving higher, hands keeping your legs spread enough for him to-</p><p>“Oh God- Steve— ah-“</p><p>You had never imagined man’s mouth doing <em>that,</em> his tongue licking at your folds and drinking in your juices, causing you to jolt, heat spreading through your body, a coil twisting in your abdomen. It was inappropriate, dirty, <em>filthy </em>even but <em>God,</em> did it feel so, <em>so good,</em> and when something felt so good, how could it be wrong? Wet noises drowned in your moans as he lapped at your lower lips, the tip of his tongue dipping in, your hips bucking, meeting his movements without being able to control it, a mad chase of something, <em>something</em> he was pushing you towards and you wanted, <em>wanted, needed it-</em></p><p>And then his mouth moved an inch up, a single digit teasing your soaked entrance, barely a tip sliding in and you were done for, falling apart with a cry on your lips, your thighs trembling, hips never ceasing their movements that sent you to heaven, Steve’s hand on your thigh the only thing keeping you on Earth.</p><p>His lips moved to your hip, planting a kiss there, soft at first. A graze of teeth caused your whole body to twitch, your heart beating too fast, your breaths too quick and short to let out a single word of praise or complaint. Your head might be spinning a bit. A lot.</p><p>Your hand somehow found its way to his hair, fingers running through his blond locks affectionately, eyes fluttering open only to see him watch your face with an almost teasing grin. Yet, even in your haze, breathing slowing down, you recognized softness in his gaze.</p><p>“Even prettier than I imagined,” he muttered to your skin and stretched over your body, still fully clothed – the disbalance! – and pressed a light kiss to your cheek.</p><p>Unable to resist, you pulled him in for a proper kiss, perplexed and aroused at the salty taste of his mouth, of <em>you,</em> an undeniable proof of the dreamlike moments actually happening.</p><p>“You imagined?” you teased him in an unfamiliar surge of confidence and he chuckled against your lips.</p><p>“Can’t blame a guy, can ya’? Look at ya’, doll.”</p><p>Your heart jumped in joy at the endearment and when his lips searched yours again, you could feel the desperate need in the kiss, searing and consuming.</p><p>You were an amateur, but you had done your reading, and what more, you <em>wanted</em> <em>to</em> see him, touch him, everywhere. So your hands drifted to his broad shoulders, squeezing his biceps – <em>oh Lord – </em>sliding down his chest, slipping under the hem of his t-shirt, feeling the muscles of his abdomen flex when your fingertips brushed them. You whined into Steve’s mouth, unable to help yourself, your palm flattening on his stomach, hard and soft and warm—and so damn real, flesh, skin and hot blood-- your own was boiling. Nervous and yet bold hand slipping to the front of his jeans.</p><p>His body jerked a fraction, but he didn’t shy away from your touch, leaning to it instead, letting you feel the hard bulge, his breathy moan rushing straight to your core, to your brain, to your heart, filling your chest with pride and longing. You wanted to make him feel good—as good as he had made you or at least close to that.</p><p>Your fingers applied more pressure, his hips bucking, his mouth leaving yours. As he still balanced himself over your almost entirely bare body, his forehead rested against yours, his hot breath brushing your face.</p><p>“You wanna continue?” he asked, his breathing as heavy as yours.</p><p>That question caused you blink in shock. Did he not want to-- or was he still offering you an out? Was he even able to do that at that point? How was he able to <em>think?</em> Your body felt like on fire, climax reached and yet you sensed the desire building in you again, greedy and hungry, wishing to never stop. And recalling just how <em>entirely</em> you craved the release he had been building up to for you-</p><p>He would stop. He would be willing to stop, his own pleasure be damned.</p><p>You didn’t think your love for Steve could grow, but here he was, making your heart swell in your chest.</p><p>You caught his mouth with yours again, perhaps clumsily, still not nearly as skilled as he was, both of your hands going for the buckle of his belt and he didn’t protest in the slightest then, taking the damn hint.</p><p>He shrugged off the jeans, pulling his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t but take a generous moment to admire his physique. You had been certain no man <em>actually</em> looked like that, the body Steve had only being written about in books, displayed on a cover of a magazine, showed in the TV your mother kept you from – or tried.</p><p>Yet, Steve was very much real, towering above you on his knees, arms stretched above his head tangled in the fabric and you almost pinched yourself to make sure it was not a dream.</p><p>You sat up, placing your hands on his sides, instinctively planting a kiss on his sternum, above his navel, under it. His fingers slipped to your hair, undoing your ponytail, releasing the hair to fall freely down your shoulders as he eyed you from above, his tongue running over his lips.</p><p><em>“Fucking</em> gorgeous,” he whispered and the surprisingly crude word spoken in your company for the first time did nothing to repel you, sending a jolt of euphoria through your veins instead. Steve had been holding back, controlling his language around you so far. This meant he could be as affected by you as you were by him – <em>and</em> he called you gorgeous.</p><p>Your gaze fell to his boxers, the outline of his hard member evident and your nerves got better of you again. He was… <em>impressive, </em>you thought. You honestly weren’t sure he was—ugh, going to fit. Gulping, your hand slid to the bulge again, palming him through the fabric, relishing in the hiss that left his lips for now.</p><p>His hand covered yours and you bit your lip, startled that you did something wrong, applied too much pressure or something.</p><p>But when he looked down at you, a half-smile on his lips, you could tell he wasn’t uncomfortable. The blue of his irises was almost all hidden by his blown pupils, an emotion in his gaze you could only guess was lust.</p><p>“Careful there, doll,” he rasped, taking your wrist and bringing it to his lips, planting a soft kiss there. “Might not last if ya’—<em>shit-”</em></p><p>You didn’t know what the original thought had been, but when your free hand touched him again, he clearly lost it. Half-fascinated, half-amused, you giggled as he squinted at you playfully.</p><p>You yelped when most of his weight suddenly fell on you, pinning you to the mattress, hot chest pressed to yours, his clothed member poking against your hip.</p><p>“Oh, now you’ll get it, doll, ya’ just wait-“</p><p>Before you could react, his mouth was attacking yours, one hand gripping your waist as he was trying to balance on his other, preventing him from crashing your body under his. The weight of him on your felt like heaven, comforting and exciting and you let him steal every last of your breath, moaning to his mouth as his hips rutted into yours, his fingers moving lower to run through the slick of your core, still sensitive from your previous orgasm – your <em>first</em>.</p><p>“St-eegh,” you gasped against his lips when his finger slipped in, your back arching at the sensation, as he probed deeper than before. No pain so far—God, no pain at all, this was something entirely different, pleasure rending you speechless. He pumped his finger in and out, your hands coming to claw at his back just to hold onto <em>something.</em></p><p>His other finger danced around your centre, flicking your clit, and you felt your pelvis hit resistance as it jolted up and couldn’t lift under the weight of his own.</p><p>“What was ‘dat?” he whispered to your lips sensually and you trembled under him when he continued stroking your clit while his finger still worked you with no room for you to escape, the tingling sensation building up again, more acute than before. “Shit, you’re so <em>tight,</em> I’m not gonna—fuck, already squeezing me again, so sensitive, babydoll, let go, sweetheart…”</p><p>It hit you like a truck, a tide wave washing over you to your own shock, slight pressure in your core as Steve must have added just a tip of his second finger, but <em>good Lord,</em> with each motion new electric jolt ran up your spine, the sensation in your belly searing hot and yet to damn <em>pleasant</em>, the warmth spreading through your body just so damn <em>satisfying.</em></p><p>“So fuckin’ pretty and all mine…”</p><p>His words seemed to reach you from an immense distance even when you felt his breath right at your ear, the blood buzzing in your temples and the endless bliss sending you to heights of which you hadn’t known they existed.</p><p>“Steve…” you whispered, out of breath, yet attempting to kiss him. “What do I do? How do I make you feel <em>this </em>good-“</p><p>You felt his smile against your neck, a kiss, and then he was pulling away, reaching to the lower drawer of his nightstand. You wanted to cry when the pleasant living comforter lifted from you, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when he used his teeth to open the foiled package.</p><p>“Whaking onit-“ he mumbled and you took that as a challenge to lower his boxers, finally freeing him. <em>Shit</em>, forget about ‘impressive’, now your frantically beating heart skipped a beat. He kicked of the underwear, pulling the condom on, sending you one last warning look, making a valid point as he rolled the condom his whole thick length.</p><p>And of all things you could say, if you could only pick <em>one</em> of the throughts running through your head, you chose the one that you were instantly sure could turn him off.</p><p>“I trust you.”</p><p>He hesitated, slowly lowering himself back on you, serious and hungry gaze locked with yours. “You might regret ‘dat.”</p><p>Was he trying to intimidate you? After he brought you to your climax <em>twice</em> without doing a single thing for himself? That wasn’t exactly a convincing argument. His size? Well, he might have more luck there. The thought caused you to giggle, your courage plucked up.</p><p>“You said that I would get it. All talk, no action, Steve?”</p><p>He sputtered a curse, pinning your hips with his, teeth sinking to your lower lip, only to retreat an inch and stretch it deliciously. “Keep teasin’ me, doll, see what happens…”</p><p>But then he kissed you softer, his hand caressing your face, the other your side, and you knew you were at serious business – one that was fun, sure, but still serious. You met his gaze again, offering a tiny smile of encouragement.</p><p>You felt his manhood slide through the slick gathered at your centre, a filthy prove of your own release, and then the head prodded at your entrance, slowly sinking in. You both hissed – you guessed Steve in pleasure, but you at the sting it caused you.</p><p>His lips met yours, a soothing gentle kiss being your reward for letting him continue, pushing further—your hips jerked at the sudden pain, a gasp leaving your mouth, your eyes squeezing shut.</p><p>“So good for me. Doin’ so good, doll,” Steve mumbled to your mouth, his fingers cradling your face as something precious and you were surprised at the tears in your eyes, a result of overwhelming emotions, happiness, fear, pain and… love.</p><p>“Doll?! Should I-“</p><p>Steve’s voice sounded alarmed and you could feel him withdraw, your hands flying up to steady him, to keep him close.</p><p>“Keep going,” you breathed out, wet eye-lashes fluttering open, finding his eyes, concern battling with lust in his baby blues. You would hope your expression was enough, yet you explained. “Hurts, but I’m happy.”</p><p>He kissed you again, sinking back into you an inch at a time and you were content to feel the pain fading, dulling.</p><p>“My brave uptown girl…”</p><p>You chuckled breathlessly at that as he bottomed out, fully inside you, and you breathed through the foreign sensation, the echo of pain, the feeling of fulness, the comfort of his proximity.</p><p>He peppered your face with light kisses, whispering sweet nonsenses, praises but curses too when you shifted in your position to adjust to the pressure and— “<em>Shit you feel so good-" </em></p><p>He continued his guidance, thrusting into you, gently at first, then speeding up, caressing your clit, his kisses growing deeper and positively dirtier as did his movements, sending your heartbeat skyrocketing and your body to the skies once more, shaking you to your core, the orgasm leaving you boneless, like a doll indeed, a rag doll he helped to roll over-- he drove into you, his weight once again comforting as he chased his own release, so damn earned, his movements erratic, his grip on your hips tightening, fingers tangling in your locks, the curses falling from his lips one after another until he stilled over you, slow sensual movements following, a guttural groan falling from his lips, your head turned sideways so you could try and catch a glimpse of the marvellous picture of his eyelids fluttering close, eyebrows creased, his lips fallen apart in pleasure.</p><p>He was careful not to crush you even after that when he stayed in you, softening, his warm body, slick with sweat, covering yours entirely, his mouth finding yours even at the difficult angle.</p><p>And you… you couldn’t be happier.</p><p>
  
</p><p>⊱○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○⊰</p><p> </p><p>It was long moments after that, the top comforter with traces of blood gone, her gently cleaned up, wrapped in his arms, her cheek and hand on his chest.; his fingers were toying with strands of her hair when he made the confession he had on the tip of his tongue all night.</p><p>He planted a kiss to her forehead, his thumb brushing her cheek before tilting her head to guide her to face him. She peeked at him, shy, content and loving, eyes wide with the darkening room and her post-orgasm bliss, a soft smile on her lips.</p><p>He couldn’t hold it anymore. Maybe it was the sex. Maybe it was the almost child-like trust she had put in him. Maybe it was just <em>her.</em></p><p>“I dunno where we’re goin’, doll…” he whispered, causing her lips to purse, an adorable frown creasing her eyebrows. “But I love you.”</p><p>The prettiest smile so far stretched on her lips and she melted into his side, her gaze nothing but honest as she said the words back.</p><p>“I love you too, Steve.”</p><p>That moment, Steve realized he had no idea what he was going to if he was to lose her. Which was much more terrifying when he realized how likely that was and at how mad speed the day was coming – it could be tomorrow for all he knew.</p><p>His arm around her form tightened, lips pressing to her hairline, inhaling her perfume and shampoo to commit it to memory, his heart aching, ruminating over the irony of fate.</p><p>She had been only looking for escape. Steve hadn’t been looking for anything. And yet, what they found was each other.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! </p><p>I hope you didn’t cringe much - I don’t write smut too often and this was my first time writing a first time…I hope that makes sense. So… I take criticism as long as it’s constructive. I take feedback coherent and incoherent.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Dreams Meet Reality</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>So. Heads up, people! There is an alternate ending to my original one, the one sentence where it breaks is in <i>italics. </i> I hope that makes sense ;) Enjoy!</b>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was bound to happen – you knew as much – but deep in your heart, you had hoped it wouldn’t. You had hoped it would last longer. You had hoped that perhaps a miracle would occur and in some mysterious way, you would be able to convince your parents that marrying you to Anthony was a terrible idea.</p><p>You should have known better than that.</p><p>The very day you had fell asleep in Steve’s arms after making love – and <em>God,</em> you could still feel him, his touches on your skin, his mouth, <em>everywhere</em>, even in the most intimate places, a pleasant, almost ceremonial ache lingering exactly there, a memory of fire in your belly and your heart – you got caught.</p><p>Your parents had been waiting at Potts’ house as you reached it around eleven in the evening, a smiling mess, a sight to behold, and any illusion about the future you had been painting in your mind shattered.</p><p>Pepper had tried to take part of the blame, but your parents always believed that you were the faulty daughter in your household and such ways stretched outside your house.</p><p>Your father was furious. Your mother was deeply disappointed and even faked a few tears – or perhaps she shed them for real, mourning her reputation, one the family would fight tooth and nail to retain.   </p><p>You had literally fallen on your knees and begged when they found a drawing from a <em>street artist</em>, a souvenir of one of your trips to downtown which you had only craved to explore-- and by some miracle indeed, you were allowed to keep it and not to have it torn to shreds right in front of your eyes. Pepper’s teary gaze told you she knew you were making up things up as you went and that the drawing, the one that captured beauty you weren’t sure you possessed, meant much more.</p><p>You couldn’t even hope to earn forgiveness, so you only asked for it half-heartedly.</p><p>What you did earn was a damn <em>chaperon</em>.</p><p>In your age! In <em>this day and age!</em></p><p>Her name was Maria and she was truly efficient and strict to a fault. Nevertheless, she respected your privacy and whenever you were to meet Pepper, she would stand just outside the door and wait if you asked for a confidential conversation… which was always, you didn’t need some goddamned stranger <em>spying </em>on you. What the hell.</p><p>But truly, all things considered, you had lucked out; as your parents didn’t fault Pepper for your actions, you were still allowed to meet with her at least <em>and </em>to talk her in private.</p><p>However, the marriage plans were sped up.</p><p>And naturally, you couldn’t even <em>hope</em> to set your foot anywhere near downtown. You hadn’t seen Steve for two weeks, you hadn’t even found his number in the phone book to explain yourself and you <em>missed him.</em></p><p>Your heart seemed to fail in its basic function; when you were lying in your bed at night, wide awake, it longed after ocean blue eyes with a drop of green, strong hands holding you close, and it wouldn’t stop pounding wildly in your chest. In the morning, your heart appeared to be beating so slowly you had to place your palm over the area to make sure it was still there, that it still had enough strength to keep you upright all day ahead.</p><p>And it ached 24 hours a day. For you, for Steve, who must have been clueless on why you never showed up to your set date or any time after. You were hurting and your parents watched you suffer along with your sister, frowning at you and scolding you to stop acting like a five-year old who had a toy taken away.</p><p>They could never understand. Was that a curse or a blessing?</p><p>Pepper was the only person you could trust, only person you could talk to about your true sorrows and her patience never seemed to wear thin despite her own turmoil – after all, if your marriage was to be sped up… her hopes were being crushed as well.</p><p>“Pepper… I don’t want to marry Tony. <em>God,</em> I can’t marry him,” you whispered, a cup of tea in your hands, your palms and fingers curled around the warm ceramics, hoping for it to take away some of the ever-present cold your body radiated these days.</p><p>Your friend smiled at you sadly, an honest and heart-breaking lift of the corners of her lips.</p><p>“I know, honey.”</p><p>You chuckled bitterly at the irony. Here you were, stealing her dreamed man, on she loved, while yearning after another, after the one <em>you</em> loved. You looked up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears gathering in your eyes – again and again, barely a day without their presence. They were always there, ready for the dam to broke so they could run down your cheeks.</p><p>When you spoke again, you could barely force the words out of your tight throat.</p><p>“I… I truly love Steve. I dreamed tonight, about having a little boy,” you whispered, the image still vivid behind your now closed eyelids. He was so damn pretty, your sweet little boy. “Blond hair, pretty blue eyes full of mischief and such innocent smile with a front tooth missing and I was expecting with another--… I want that. I want to have Steve’s children one day and I want Steve. I need him. It feels like I can’t breathe without him.”</p><p>Tender hands reached for your shoulders and pulled you into an embrace, soft and careful, yet very unladylike, not proper for anyone to see in public – at least not here, not in <em>uptown.</em> God, you hated it here. You <em>despised </em>it now, truly. And if that made you an ungrateful brat, then so be it.</p><p>“Oh sweety, I know exactly how you feel. I’m so sorry,” Pepper replied in the same manner, comfortingly stroking your arm. She sounded on the verge of tears as well. “But you know what your family is like, they would never accept Steve. As much as it hurts you <em>and</em> me… I’m not sure you really have a choice.”</p><p>You swallowed against the lump formed in your throat and shakily breathed in.  </p><p>“Don’t I?”</p><p>You thought of your chaperon and wondered… just how heartless could she be?</p><p>⊱○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○⊰</p><p>It was three weeks after his girl’s last surprise visit that had somehow resulted in her and Steve tangled in his sheets when he lost his faith in her and whatever the two of them had had completely.</p><p>Three weeks without as much as a glimpse of her or a word, two weeks of not going to bed without few bottles of beer to keep him company, Steve walked into the shop and instantly knew something was wrong.</p><p>The usually loud environment full of chatter and teasing was suspiciously quiet.</p><p>“Hey guys,” he called out, trying to sound casual. “What gives?”</p><p>“Nothing-“ Thor responded swiftly – and way too quickly. Steve rolled his eyes.</p><p>“I’m blond but ain’t that stupid. Who pissed in everyone’s cereal? Buck?”</p><p>Steve’s best friend looked up from his work, shorty meeting his eyes. The regretful gaze spoke volumes on its own, but the brunet still sighed, tossing the rag in his hands on the nearest hood.</p><p>Steve suddenly wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear the news whatever it was. Dread filled his stomach, a feeling that had his gut twist uncomfortably. The blue-grey irises of his friend hid behind his eyelids.</p><p>“I… I’ve been in town this morning, Steve,” he explained slowly, cursing under his breath when he took in Steve’s perfectly confused expression, awaiting a metaphorical punch. <em>“Fuck,</em> Steve—I-eh, I saw Carter with Stark and they were-“ The coil in Steve’s stomach tightened to the point of him thinking he might throw up. “-shit, I’m sorry, Steve, they were at jeweller’s, probably picking up a ring.”</p><p>
  <em>A ring.</em>
</p><p>Right.</p><p>Because she was getting married. To Stark. He knew that—he had been, in fact, informed that it might happen at some point.</p><p>But no-- like a fool, he had painted an image in his head, stupid and naïve and even found himself thinking about his ma’s engagement ring – once or twice since he had met his stunning uptown girl –, one he had inherited and was planning to give a woman who would take his heart.</p><p>Funny how his mind had been purposely leaving out the fact that the very same woman he had given his heart to was the one who could stomp on it and let it bleed on the pavement.</p><p><em>Fuck,</em> he was a complete idiot, wasn’t he?</p><p>Steve swallowed against his suddenly dry throat, nodding few times in acknowledgement of the information, lips in a tight line, one corner lifted in an ironic smile as his blood boiled.</p><p>“Well… we knew it was comin’, didn’t we?” he remarked and shook his head with a scoff.</p><p>God, he was <em>so fucking stupid-</em></p><p>“Steve-“</p><p>He waved Bucky off, stalking towards his own station. He dropped his bag, always stashed with clean clothes <em>just in case,</em> to the ground by the counter, hand blindly reaching out. He grabbed the wrench on the top unmistakably, his fingers curling firmly around the metal.</p><p>One swift movement, one jerk of his bulging arm and the wrench was sent flying, hitting the momentarily empty chain with an ominous clang that could only hope to echo the mad rage he felt, sizzling in his veins, eating him up from the inside.</p><p>“Fuck him!” he roared, the ferocity of his voice startling even his mates who were familiar with his occasional temper.</p><p>His breathing turned heavy as he reached for another tool, flinging it the same way, this time hitting the wall, much to his irritation.</p><p>Jesus fucking <em>shit</em>-- he was so fucking mad – at her, at himself, at <em>Stark</em>, Stark who thought he could just take and <em>take, </em>greedy asshole, just like all of those uptown snobs that thought they owned the <em>fucking world!  </em></p><p>“Fuck Stark and all of those privileged assholes! I hope they rot in- Fucking! Hell!”</p><p>Two more objects Steve didn’t bother to look at flied through the air and hit the chains, the harmless violence not providing him with half the satisfaction he hoped in.</p><p>By the time the boss stalked into the shop the check on what was going on – and to yell at his employees to stop fucking around – Steve had been long gone, taking the SHILED bike and driving away until all he could feel was the wind swishing around his head, loud enough to drown out his noisy thoughts.</p><p>“Rogers came in sick, we sent him home,” Pietro supplied helpfully, the deadpan expression on Fury’s face telling him that he had none of that shit.</p><p>Yet, the bossman sighed and headed back to his office.</p><p>“Good, wouldn’t want him to puke all over my fuckin’ garage.”</p><p>◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦</p><p>She showed up in the shop on week four. Steve was just coming back from a short bathroom break, quickly taking a U-turn when he got a glimpse of her in the overhead door to the garage, wearing black and red elegant <a href="https://www.retro-stage.com/products/black-1950s-sweetheart-bow-swing-dress?variant=30131554779185&amp;utm_source=fb&amp;utm_medium=ad&amp;utm_campaign=YvetteDL7-retro&amp;utm_content=retro&amp;utm_term=retro&amp;fbclid=IwAR0AaGgFF23ZHxwfKWLKSqfChVDKzspX4T2d30d1g8-wuXmijd1W6Z0Zu8E">dress</a>.</p><p>He leaned his back against the separating wall, closing his eyes at the painful jab to his stomach.</p><p>Logically, there was no reason for him to be so devastated. He fucked girls before—he <em>liked</em> girls before. So why did he have to be such a missy when it came to her? She was pretty, sure, but there were plenty of cute gals. Steve really tried not to think about the L word they had exchanged, because deep down it had dawned to him a while ago; he was so fucked up because he was <em>in love</em> and then he was dumped by a lady who normally wouldn’t look at him twice, which was something that his brain had been bullheadedly refusing to accept.</p><p>“Sorry, he ain’t in today,” Odinson drawled, traces of hostility in his voice.</p><p>“Oh,” she sounded surprised and he could picture the gentle confused frown, the slight pout to her lips—shit, those lips tasted like cherry-- "Uhm, do you know when he will be in?”</p><p>“Why do ya’ need to know?”</p><p>Steve was certain that her frown deepened at Bucky’s words.</p><p>“Well, uhm, I need to talk to him, it’s important. Should I come here in few days or-“</p><p>“Don’t think he’ll be ‘round here any time soon.”</p><p>“Is he alright?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice and it took all of Steve’s willpower not to bang his head against the wall.</p><p>Why, just <em>why</em> was she doing this to him? Why would she <em>care?</em></p><p>Now he knew that was cruel to her – he believed that once, she had truly been interested in him – but he told himself multiple times that her looks were deceiving, that she only had been looking for a distraction from her uptight uptown world. Maybe if he told himself enough times, he would start to believe it.</p><p>“Ain’t none of your business, princess,” Thor retorted and Steve just knew she winced at the harsh tone, a soft gasp escaping her mouth, that sweet mouth he had  kissed over three weeks ago, sweet, innocent and sinful, the music of her short breaths filling his poor excuse of a loft, keeping him fucking going.</p><p>“Nice ring, by the way,” Bucky said nonchalantly.</p><p>Steve gulped at that. Yeah, he bet it was; but there was no way Bucky was being polite. The venom dripping from his words was a message on its own.</p><p>And she picked up on it, naturally. His –not his anymore, not that she had ever truly been – brilliant beautiful girl.</p><p>“Oh. Thank- thank you,” she whispered and Steve had to strain his ears like a creep, catching the crack in her voice; he almost ran out hearing it, ready to comfort her, because God, he couldn’t imagine her crying, salt tears rolling down her rosy cheeks - few had when they had made love, but she had been smiling too.</p><p>He was sure that seeing her cry without that smile… it would feel the world was ending. Her eyes were made for shining with happiness, her lips made for laughter-</p><p>“The fuck-?“Steve’s head snapped straight when he heard his boss leaving his office, catching him chilling by the wall, very much <em>not</em> working and instead trying not to break and kiss the woman he loved stupid – no matter how stupid that made <em>him.</em> She was engaged. Promised to another, a much <em>classier</em> man… or at least much richer, Steve didn’t imagine his character being worth a damn penny.</p><p>On instinct, Steve put a finger over his own lips, wordlessly begging Fury not to rat him out. The man rolled his good eye – the one that hadn’t been hit by hot oil years ago – and crossed his arms on his chest.</p><p>“And—uhm, I see. Tell—please tell him I stopped by if he- and that I am sorry for not coming here for so long. He can leave a message with Mrs.Maximoff if he--- tell him I really need to-- that I would like to talk to him,” her voice trembled a bit as she stuttered, but it was clear she had been aiming for a firmer voice and missed by miles.</p><p>“Don’t see why he should want to know, princess, but sure, whatever.”</p><p>Fury gave Steve another annoyed look and stalked into everyone’s sight. For a second, Steve panicked – was his boss about to tell on him? – but the bulky man only walked in, a professional greeting on his lips.</p><p>“Good afternoon, madam. What can we do for you today?”</p><p>“Oh, good afternoon, sir-“</p><p>“My name is Nicolas Fury, I own the SHIELD Car Repairs. May I be of service?” he continued pleasantly, a businessman in his heart. And actor in his soul, apparently, because Steve was sure he figured out what was going on from the few words he had heard and from Steve’s cowardice and was now putting up a face.</p><p>“Mr.Fury, thank you for your readiness, however I was only just leaving. Your staff was most helpful,” she said, polite and respectful, almost a hint of a kind smile in her tone as if she hadn’t sounded on verge of tears only a moment ago. As if the guys hadn’t been jerks to her, standing up for him and his… ugh, his hurt feelings.</p><p>“Very well then. Have a pleasant day. Should I walk you out?”</p><p>“I actually already offered to walk Ms. Carter out if that’s alright with ya’,” Pietro quickly stepped in, a voice that hadn’t spoken since she had arrived.</p><p>“Thank you for choosing SHIELD Car Repairs, Ms.Carter,” Fury’s voice echoed through the shop, complete silence following for what felt like an eternity.</p><p>Steve gulped, knowing all too well Fury was waiting for him to come out of his hiding spot.</p><p>And sure enough – the boss’ eye found him the moment he returned. “Mr.Fury-“</p><p>“For fuck’s sake, Rogers, don’t pull shit like ‘dat in my shop. And all of ya’ – less chatting, less big-mouthing customers and for <em>fuck’s</em> sake, don’t go jerk into the bathroom now just because a girl in skirt showed up. Get your head in the game… and don’t drop anything on your fucking toes, accidents on a workplace are shit to deal with.”</p><p>Steve nodded with fervour, going back to his station, even when he couldn’t say that <em>his</em> <em>head was in the game.</em> No, his head was miles away, with beautiful pouty lips, the sweetest smile and a body to write sonnets for.</p><p>When Pietro came back, he didn’t say a word, but Steve could feel him burning a hole in his head with how much he stared.</p><p>
  <em>That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.</em>
</p><p>Two months later, two months of Steve avoiding Maximoff’s diner like a plague <em>and</em> dodging Pietro Maximoff’s attempts to have a minute alone with him, a Good Samaritan left a newspaper on Steve’s doorstep. Steve, utterly confused and bone-tired from the long day at work, lifted it and started flicking through the pages absentmindedly as he went inside of his apartment.</p><p>And there, right among the obituaries, were marriage announcements, one single photo from a wedding.</p><p>She was stunning in her <a href="https://www.dhresource.com/0x0/f2/albu/g5/M01/F2/E5/rBVaJFh4lhyAfVCGAARVpNa_tlY086.jpg">dress</a>, the fabric appearing as delicate and soft as her skin when Steve had felt it under his rough fingers the day she had asked him to make love to her. A smile, crooked and melancholic, played on Steve’s lips at the memory, her breathless moans echoing in his ears.</p><p>In the photo posed a beautiful bride with her husband; and yet, Steve couldn’t make himself think she looked as pretty as she had been when sitting on his bed, misplaced, breath-taking and tempting, as pretty as she had been in the moments of ecstasy he had brought her with his loving; for the first time and for the last time at once.</p><p>He abandoned the paper on the counter and poured himself a glass of whiskey, bringing it up, hesitating an inch from his lips.</p><p>Eyeing the amber liquid, stirring it in the glass, he recalled a movie he had been to with Buck a long time ago. He had never seen people do it in real life, they certainly hadn’t done that at his ma’s funeral, but it would feel symbolic perhaps; the action of pouring a drink into a freshly dug grave was as outside his reality as the foolish idea of a relationship with her, after all.</p><p>Taking the newspaper to his hand once more, straightening the picture, he let himself feast his eyes on her. She was radiant, like sun, like the damn sunflowers on her dress the day he had met her.</p><p>Shaking his head, he threw the paper to the trash, picture up. Pouring half the whiskey on it, he buried the bittersweet memory of his untouchable uptown girl, and downed the rest, ignoring the burn in his eyes and focused on the one in his throat.</p><p>As much as he hated himself for it, his last thought before he fell asleep that night was of her, a minute of wonder if she had ever truly been as affected as he was at least for a moment; he lulled himself to sleep hoping that perhaps she had.</p><p>He dreamed of reaching out to Mrs.Maximoff as she had asked the guys to tell him to do. He dreamed of her being there the next time he came in, with an inviting yet sad smile, a big-ass diamond on her finger… her cherry-flavoured kiss of goodbye lingering on his lips when he opened his eyes to a new day.</p><p>He took the trash out that very morning, adding a half-finished sketch he torn away from his book.</p><p>It was the last time he saw her.</p><p> </p><p>○</p><p>○</p><p>○</p><p>
  <em>◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ </em>
  <em>Alternate ending </em>
  <em>◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.</em>
</p><p>In the night of week four turning to week five, Steve’s eyes snapped open to the darkness of his apartment. Momentarily confused, not remembering a nightmare or anything that would cause him to wake up so abruptly, he groaned when he reached for the alarm clock on his nightstand only to find out it was half past one.</p><p>He woke up for no fucking reason barely two hours after he went to bed.  </p><p>Furious knocks on his door made him jolt, his irritation only growing.</p><p>Not without a reason then – some fucker was-- ugh. People were <em>fucking assholes. </em>He was not getting up from his bed for sure.</p><p>“Fuck off,” Steve muttered, lying back down face first, determined to ignore-</p><p>His door rattled with the force of the next series of knocks and he growled, scrambling to his feet, shuffling to the door and wiping the sleep from his eyes.</p><p>“C’min’, comin’, <em>Jesus, fuck.”</em></p><p>Unlocking and opening the door for a slit, Steve stared at the face of his night visitor, absolutely baffled.</p><p>“The fuck, Pietro? Do ya’ know wad time ‘zit?”</p><p>“No. Do ya’?” the blond retorted, his voice dripping sarcasm and Steve really wanted to shut the door to his face. It was too early – or <em>late</em> – for Steve to deal with that bullshit. “Pack your bags, Rogers, Natasha has a free room.”</p><p>Steve briefly wondered when the <em>fuck</em> the world stopped making any goddamn sense, but opened the door fully for his clearly delusional friend. For all Steve knew, Pietro could be having a stroke, he’d better hear him out.</p><p>“Huh?” he hummed, his palms massaging his bloodshot eyes. “Da’ fuck are ya’ talkin’ ‘bout?”</p><p>“Natasha? My cousin? Remember her?”</p><p>Why the hell was Pietro acting as if it was completely normal to stop by a guy’s loft to talk about his cousin, one Steve hadn’t even met?</p><p>Steve sighed, humouring the other man. “Yeah? Married some… general or somethin’? What’s ‘dat-” </p><p>“Colonel, yeah. She’s the one who lives in Baltimore. She got a room for ya’,” Pietro repeated, still not making an ounce of sense.</p><p>“The fuck’d I do in Baltimore?” Steve asked tiredly, earning a look that told him that it was <em>fucking obvious.</em> Which it wasn’t really, not to him.</p><p>…was this a fever dream?</p><p>“Open your own shop, dumbass, or find a spot in some. Make money for that pretty gal of yours and that little cute as fuck babies you’ll make.”</p><p>Steve’s heart dropped to his stomach at the mention of you, fully prepared to rip Pietro a new one to wake him in the middle of the night to fuck with him—but  he caught a movement to Pietro’s right from a corner of his eye and his heart leaped right back, suddenly sprinting.</p><p>This was <em>most definitely</em> a fever dream. Steve felt his jaw drop, his eyes fixing on the vision in front of him as he entirely tuned out Pietro’s next words.</p><p>“She must like you real big if she’s willin’ to sell her family nick-nack to look at your ugly mug every day. And skip town and shit…”</p><p>And a vision his beautiful uptown girl was, a mirage his mind must have come up, because there was <em>no way</em> she was standing there, sheepish as always, but instead of her dress, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple red blouse, a denim jacket unbuttoned, hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, threw over her left shoulder. </p><p>And <em>shit, </em>she <em>talked </em>too, which made it appear this was in fact real.</p><p>“Good evening, Steve. I am sorry to wake you,” she whispered, leaving him stare at her blankly, dumbstruck, breath stuck in his chest.</p><p>“I’ll drive ya’, Dr.Strange’s car needs a test ride. Fury’s payin’ for the gas, by the way, the ol’ bastard,” Pietro continued as Steve managed to only watch the woman he had been missing for the past weeks lower her gaze, her teeth anxiously biting on her lower lip, fingers toying with the edges of her jacket. <em>Hers?</em> “I’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon, even have an hour or two to spare. That’s if you start packin’ now, bud.”</p><p>The mention of packing snapped Steve from his trance, all the emotions hitting him like a damn truck. Anger, longing, <em>more confusion,</em> restlessness as his girl was standing only few feet away from him and he <em>couldn’t take it anymore.</em></p><p>He took a hesitant step towards her, ignoring the smirking man clearing his path.</p><p>“What—what are ya’ doin’ here?” Steve asked incredulously, his inner turmoil reflecting in his voice. She hadn’t showed up for <em>weeks </em>and now-- what exactly was she doing here? “You- you’re engaged-”</p><p>Gulping, she looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears; yet, a hint of a smile spread on her lips as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. For the first time, Steve also noticed her shoes, a simple pair of sneakers looking bizarre on her feet.</p><p>“To a man who loves my best friend and vice versa, my best friend who has been covering for me whenever we were together before it blew to our faces,” she explained, not daring to raise her voice above whisper. Steve still didn’t understand – not fully, unable to comprehend what was happing on his doorstep. Pietro talking about his cousin, about driving, Fury paying for gas, the woman he still loved standing there as if ready to skip town- “She was too covering for me when I talked to Mrs. Maximoff when she helped me to plan this. Pietro said you would want this as well— but- but if you don’t, I will leave you alone. I-“</p><p>The day Steve had met the strange girl from uptown, Bucky hadn’t failed to mention Pietro was the fast one, clearly implying Steve was the <em>slow one.</em></p><p>Bucky should have fucking seen Steve now when she <em>hesitated,</em> unsure of his feelings – he had never acted so fast in his whole damn life.</p><p>He crossed the distance in one long stride and his hands shot up to her, grabbing her by her shoulders unceremonially. Before she could react, he pulled her body against his with all he got, claiming her mouth like there was no tomorrow.</p><p>He swallowed her yelp of surprise, followed by her happy laugh, feeling tears springing from her eyes, causing him to halt just as she finally started kissing him back.</p><p>“But your family-“ he blurted out, interrupted by her shaking her head wildly, hair flying.</p><p>“Mr. Ross has an eye on my sister. He is from a good family, of good name, generations of lawyers. My family will do splendidly,” she said with a smile playing on her lips, sweet and watery as tears still rolled down her face – happy ones, Steve believed. He felt the same delight bursting in him, switching from a broody cynic back to the fool in love in no time. “And we might too. We will have each other and I have learned enough to teach—or-- or I can be a waitress if I can’t find another job, it doesn’t matter, just so you are not the only one to-“</p><p><em>God, he loved her.</em> She was so adorable and sweet and was talking about being <em>his</em> and going from basically a modern princess to a damn waitress, because she was willing to <em>be with him </em>whatever the fucking cost, apparently--</p><p>And was there really anything else he could do?</p><p>He grabbed the back of her neck to connect their mouths again, a hungry open-mouthed kiss, his hand fisting in her hair, because holy <em>fuck, </em>how was this happening, she was<em> here </em>and she was his-</p><p>“Alright, alright, smoochin’ later, packin’ your friggin’ bags now, Rogers,” Pietro cleared his throat loudly, sounding only as annoyed as amused. “I have a long drive ahead.”</p><p>Later, bags hazardously full and piled up in the trunk and on the backseat next to them, Steve couldn’t stop smiling and yet he felt a pang of guilt, ruminating over everything she was giving up.</p><p>She was resting her head on his shoulder, their interlaced fingers in his lap and Steve revelled at the absence of an overpriced engagement ring on her hand, the one from his ma’s securely in one of his bags to take place on her finger one day. She was walking the fine line between the real world and the dreamland, breathing softly to the crook of his neck and she seemed content. <em>For now.</em></p><p>He sighed and pressed what could be the hundredth kiss to her hair that night.</p><p>“Doll?” he whispered softly, the question burning on his tongue, the only one he could hope to actually have answered now and not after they would try and started a life together.</p><p>“Mm?” she hummed softly, nuzzling into him further, her lips brushing the exposed skin on his throat.</p><p>“Why me? You could have any of those-“ <em>snobs</em> “-high-class… uptown guys.”</p><p>The smile he felt against his skin had him melt into the seat as he chased away all the grim thoughts about what the future might bring, her regretting her decision and blaming him for her ruined life on top of that list.</p><p>“Because I love <em>you,</em> Steve, and you are worth ten of them. My amazing <em>downtown</em> guy,” she emphasized, filling Steve’s chest with the most delicious warmth, his heart swelling, feeling so full it might burst.</p><p>He knew she wasn’t just saying that – she <em>meant </em>it. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t’ have been in his arms right now, heading to damn <em>Baltimore</em> with nothing but her bags, little money and few pieces of jewellery.</p><p>“I love ya’ too,” he whispered, this time pressing a kiss to her nose, drawing an exhausted giggle from her lips. Yep, his heart was about to burst before they even reached their destination. “Love ya’ so much. My sweet, <em>sweet</em> uptown girl.”</p><p>“Not so uptown anymore...”</p><p>Steve chuckled as rather than regret, her voice was filled with <em>relief. </em>“I’m willin’ to put up with ‘dat as long as ya’ stay <em>mine.”</em></p><p>She squeezed his hand, tilting her head up, blinking up at him sleepily and softly pressing her lips to his.</p><p>“I think that can be arranged.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>….yes, in the first ending, there might have been a chance of our uptown girl planning an escape and Steve aka heartbroken dummy blew it. But hey, maybe not, perhaps she only wanted to say goodbye… who knows. Aaaaanyway.</p><p>You are my hero if you finished reading this fic! Thank you so much for finding time to do that, this one truly was a beast – at least when I consider that it WAS supposed to be a one shot. </p><p>Any feedback is appreciated, as always – good, bad (if constructive), coherent or incoherent, if you enjoyed and don’t feel like putting feelings into words.<br/>Thanks again for reading!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feedback is always appreciated :))</p><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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